


A Soul Mate To Everyone

by Tvieandli



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 22:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tvieandli/pseuds/Tvieandli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick is Everyone's Soul Mate. Damian knows. Kory's just finding out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Soul Mate To Everyone

Dick was everyone’s soulmate. Everyone thought that. He’d make them the most happy. Compliment them in the best way. Damian realized it wasn’t the case. He knew for a fact that Dick made him miserable, but misery was kind of nice sometimes. Maybe he was addicted to the push and pull of it. Maybe he got off on the disappointment, and the heart break.  
All he knew was he wasn’t enjoying it anymore. He looked at Kory, and felt fucking wretched. Like he was the wicked witch, or the evil step-mother in one of those old fairy tales. He swallowed, and held his breath, as her eyebrows tugged themselves up, and together in hurt that he physically felt watching her.  
“I don’t understand,” she said, and the lump in Damian’s throat threatened to suffocate him. He’d known that Dick was seeing other people. He’d known. He’d known since he was tiny, and it was just a crush that Dick was no one person’s, but it had never even occurred to him that Dick would forget to tell those other people he was seeing about the fact that he was screwing his kid brother- or well, someone else.  
“I’m-” he started, taking a step back, because he could see where this was going. She was going to snap from saddened, and hurt to angry, and he knew- not quite from experience, but still- that when she was angry people tended to get hurt.  
“Why?” She demanded, her face going from painful, and broken to wrathful as her hands burst to life with purple energy. “Why would you do this to me?”  
There were very few times that Damian chose not to fight back. Most of them were in moments like this. Moments when he was emotionally compromised, and unwilling to show it.  
He’d done it because he couldn’t have Dick either. He knew that. No one could have Dick.  
“I,” he tried again, but the lump in his throat choked, him, and swallowed his words, and he got lost in how angry she was. How hurt. He could remember feeling this way when he walked in to see Dick with some beautiful red head. He remembered wishing his hair was red, and his skin was fair for weeks so that he would be good enough for more notice. He still wished that sometimes.  
“I didn’t mean-” he continued, but she roared, cutting him off, shocking him silent.  
“To what? Hurt me? No one ever means it though, do they?”  
Damian pushed his back up against the wall, using it to keep him standing firm so that his emotions would not show. He caught the inside of his cheek with his teeth, and bit down until the skin puckered painfully, refusing to say anymore. He’d waited out his mother’s rants before. He knew what this was like. Staying quiet was the only way to make it all the way through with out any truly adverse side effects.  
He closed his eyes behind the lenses of his mask, and told himself that he hadn’t hurt her. This wasn’t his fault. Everyone thought this way about Dick. Everyone. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d been duped too. It wasn’t his fault.  
When he opened his eyes, her angry face was streaked with tears, and the illusion that he wasn’t at fault vanished. He was sick of this. He was sick of being told he was loved most, and then seeing that told to other people. He was sick of the way that Dick pranced about gathering hearts, unwitting to the pain he sewed in his wake.  
Damian looked at the tears growing from the furrows Dick had dug in the ground, and he swallowed hard.  
“Since I was fifteen,” he said, fingers tightening around the yellow of his cape. “Since before the two of you got together.” He made certain to look in her eyes, seeming un-remorseful in the way of his mother, and the league. An unshakable, unfeeling rock. “I’ve done nothing wrong,” he said, as much to convince her as to convince himself.  
Her hand caught his shoulder when he turned to walk away, overly warm, but not able to burn him through the insulated layers of the suit. He spun, snarling at her. “Don’t touch me!”  
The look on her face when she recoiled made him sick. It was a look of disgust, and pity, and it made him want to vomit so badly, that he had to pull the skin of his cheek back between his teeth, making his mouth taste metallic when the sharp edges of his incisors cut through into tiny blood vessels.  
He didn’t look back again, trying his best to seem calm, and composed as he walked down the hallway, until he turned to corner. When he was where she couldn’t see him he gave up. He threw his pride out the window, and ran.


End file.
